


Ritualistic Coffee

by s_c_writ



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, No Metaverse (Persona 5), but it could be, ghost!akechi, it's honestly not shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 12:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18180722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_c_writ/pseuds/s_c_writ
Summary: After performing Sojiro's coffee "ritual," Akira gets a new testing buddy with an interesting story.





	Ritualistic Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to [@akchren](https://twitter.com/akchren) on Twitter for the AU idea! Go follow <3

“Hey, kid, I’m gonna need you to close up this Friday on your own if that’s alright.”

Sojiro’s voice is tight, and Akira cocks his head to the side, setting the cup he was washing back into the sudsy water. As his guardian for the past year, Sojiro had taught Akira the ins and outs of running a little cafe and had even let him close by himself a few times, but never on Fridays. 

On Fridays, Sojiro had a silent ritual that Akira was much too wary to ask about. At 7:00pm sharp, Sojiro would begin boiling water for a cup of coffee made from a stash of beans he kept in a cupboard under the bar--one that no one else was allowed to use. It came from an unmarked bag and sat next to a gleaming white cup and saucer that no one else used. When the coffee was done brewing, Sojiro would set the cup and saucer down on the bar in front of the seat closest to the door and leave it there until the next morning, when he shoulders past Akira and washes it himself.

Akira had only gathered that it was in memory of someone very important, because whenever he asked Futaba, she closed off from him and made excuses to disappear into her room until he finally quit asking.

All things considered, the fact that Sojiro was allowing him to close on a Friday by himself was, to say the least, a big fucking deal.

In response to his guardian, Akira just nods and turns to continue washing the dishes that had accumulated while he was in class and studying with Ryuji and Ann, the sun setting behind the buildings of Tokyo. When he finally finishes, Sojiro has left and turned the sign and the cafe around him has grown dark save the glowing light bulb in the kitchen. The teen heaves a sigh and dries his hands on his apron before hanging it up in the storage closet and retreating to his makeshift bedroom in the attic upstairs.

Akira’s parents had abruptly told him a year ago that they were going to be selling their house and transferring to a branch of their company in America, and that he was to stay here under the watch of one of their old acquaintances in Tokyo. Rather than being angry, the raven-haired teen was relieved that he was released from their overbearing, often cruelly critical eyes watching his every move, and had wished them well as they left him at the train station to make his way to Tokyo by himself. 

Sojiro had taken him in and showed him his new school, where he’d made friends with Ann and Ryuji following a scandal with one of Ann’s friends and the volleyball coach. The coach had attempted to come onto Shiho, but Akira and Sojiro had been walking past with the former student council president, Makoto, who stopped it and reported the incident to her elder sister, and the volleyball coach had disappeared overnight. Shiho had told Ann, who had then attracted Ryuji, and they had their little group now. Said group had expanded over the past year to include a Kosei student and a couple more Shujin students, but some had gone off to universities in the area, leaving Akira, Ann, Shiho, and Ryuji behind.

His bedroom had become their little hangout spot because of its relatively central location and the free coffee and cocoa Sojiro claimed to hate giving out, but he always did it with a little twinkle in his eye. When he made it up the stairs, he got a loud purr from his cat, Morgana, and Akira obeyed the head pushing itself into his palm and pet him. His room was covered in little trinkets and memorabilia from outings with friends and he’d truly made this place his home recently, and he lets a small smile split his features before flopping down on his bed.

\-----------

Akira had come straight from school back to the cafe on Sojiro’s request and had immediately been given full reign of the cafe. After serving the regulars and cleaning up a bit, Akira noticed the time creeping closer to seven. With a quick glance towards the barseat closest to the door, he begins to prepare the cup of coffee he’d seen Sojiro make countless times before. He finds himself concentrating on making the perfect cup harder than he has in a long time, and when it’s finished, he gingerly settles the cup and saucer in front of the empty seat. A thought crosses his mind and he turns to fully face the seat before bending at the waist into a perhaps overly polite bow. 

He straightens and turns to one of the regulars with a patient smile and promises he’ll get started on a refill “Right away, sir.”

The rest of the night passes uneventfully, except for a group of girls from a different school that come in and complain about the lack of frilly Starbucks drinks available. Akira just smiles thinly and does his best to cater to their needs, breathing a sigh of relief as he gets to flip the sign and lock the door behind them. He turns around and heaves a great sigh, slumping against the door as his eyes fall shut. Only the sound of a cup being gently set back into its platter gets him to peel them back open, and he’s met with a sight that makes his heart freeze.

There in the bar stool closest to the door sits a slender, well-dressed boy about his age with soft-looking, long bronze hair and glittering rubies for eyes. His legs are crossed over themselves and he has a soft, pleasant smile on his face as he regards Akira appraisingly. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Akira immediately wants to slap himself for his lack of tact, but he only gets an airy laugh in response. The pleasant smile turns sharp and the teen feels pinned to the door by the searching gaze. As the boy takes another sip of the coffee and hums, his eyes never leaving Akira’s face, the raven-haired boy takes a moment to really look at him, and--oh, okay now he’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack.

Where there should be hard outlines of a human, there’s a soft, shimmering light coming off of the boy. Every swing of his crossed legs shows them phasing straight through the solid wood bar, and the air between them feels electric.

“Excuse me. But, who are you?”

The boy smiles, pleasant once again.

“I’m Goro Akechi. Futaba’s older half-brother. Or, I was, I suppose, when I was still living.”

Akira just nods slowly.

“Alright, dead guy at the bar, no problem. I’m guessing you’re who Sojiro leaves the coffee for every Friday?”

He’s given another smile in response.

“It would seem so. He was my guardian and…”

Akechi breaks off and stares hard into the cold coffee, distress clear on his face.

“Why did you make this coffee?”

Akira gapes for a moment and considers a realm of possible answers before deciding on the safest.

“It seemed like Sojiro had a ritual he didn’t want broken, but he wasn’t going to ask me to keep it. He has his reasons and he’s not a man that just does something for the hell of it.”

Akechi nods after a moment before standing. Now that they’re on eye-level with each other, Akira can clearly see that he’s partially transparent in the low lighting of the cafe. Another thing he notices and almost wishes he hadn’t, is a perfect bullet hole directly in the center of Akechi’s forehead, visible only when he moves fast enough for his hair to shift. The ghost obviously knows that Akira’s seen it when the energy surrounding him turns prickly, but he still gives the living teen a smile before walking past him and disappearing through the closed door.

“Okay… I think I need a nap.”

Akira drifts through his closing chores in a daze before heading upstairs and laying down slowly, mind still reeling from the evening’s events.

\-------------

Upon waking the next morning, Akira groans and tosses his arm over his eyes, positive that it’s too early to be awake even for class.

“Good morning.”

His eyes flash open to see Goro Akechi, in his full ghostly glory, perched on his couch and smiling at him. Akira absolutely does not shriek and twist himself up in his blankets before falling off the bed with a painful-sounding thump, but Goro does laugh.

Akira glares at him from the tangle of fabric and sighs.

“Guess that wasn’t a dream, then?”

Goro gestures to himself and shrugs.

“Guess not. Just kind of...showed up last night. The living haven’t been able to see me. Until you, of course.”

Akira nods faintly, eyes still locked on the handsome--dead, Akira, he’s dead--boy across from him. He extracts himself from his sheets with a grunt and burning cheeks. Akechi is still watching him curiously, head cocked to the side. In the position he’s in, his hair has drifted from his forehead to reveal the bullet wound Akira had noticed the night before, but the dead boy only smiles placatingly when Akira’s eyes linger on it.

“Perhaps I will tell you the story someday, but for now, don’t worry about it. Don’t you have classes to attend?”

The grey-eyed boy curses under his breath and begins scrambling around the room for his uniform, ears red from embarrassment when Akechi merely laughs. The laugh abruptly cuts off whenever the bell downstairs jingles, signalling Sojiro’s arrival for the day. When Akira looks, Akechi is gone, and the room feels just a bit emptier.

After getting dressed, he runs down the stairs with a quick pat to Morgana’s head, but his breath catches in his throat when he gets to the bottom. Sojiro’s eyes freeze him in place, and his expression is unreadable. A moment passes before the older man gestures towards the cup that’s still sitting where Akechi left it last night and sighs.

Akira just nods in acknowledgment and hurries out the door to the train station. As soon as he starts down the alley, another pair of footsteps join his. The same ghostly figure turns and smiles at him, even if it is a little strained. The raven-haired teen just smiles gently in response and they keep pace all the way to the station. As usual, the train is packed, and instead of looking uncomfortable or disappearing, Akechi seems to lean into Akira’s space a little more. It may be nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but he would swear up, down, and sideways that he felt the pressure and warmth of their hips touching lightly. There’s no cue from Akechi to confirm this, but the ghostly teen meets his eyes with a small smile before pointing out a cat hidden in someone’s lap.

Ryuji greets him as he walks up to the school gates, and as soon as the blond teen falls into step beside him, Akechi smiles and disappears, leaving Akira to turn to his friend with a grin.

“Man, I dunno if I’m ready for this exam today.”

Akira freezes where he stands and groans, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“I completely forgot we had that…”

Ryuji just stares at him in stunned silence for a second before bursting out in laughter and throwing an arm around his shoulders and dragging him into a quick but gentle hug.

“Maybe you’ll finally be on our level then! What happened? You’re usually so good at rememberin’ to study.”

“Boss had me close last night and some uh…” Akira trails off as they continue through the doors along with the crowd of other students. “Something happened, and I want to talk to you about it later. Right now I have to cram for this test.”

“You alright, though?” Ryuji’s brows knit together in concern, and he searches Akira’s face as if he could find the answer behind his glasses. “Somethin’ happen to you? Should I call Ann?”

Akira smiles fondly and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it, ‘Yuji. M’not in danger or sick or anything, just a weird thing that happened. C’mon, let’s study. I’ll let you borrow my notes.”

In a flash, Ryuji’s face lights up in a blinding smile.

“Akira, you’re my favorite human, y’know that, yea?” he breathes, almost reverently.

Akira smirks and elbows him in the side before leading him to their shared homeroom where they meet up with an equally stressed Ann and study frantically together.

\-------------

It’s in the middle of the test when Akira is about to move on from a question when he hears a quiet snort of derision from beside him. His head whips around to see Akechi leaning down over his desk to read his answers. Their space is more shared than anything else, but Akira is more concerned with the playful smirk quirking up the ghost’s lips.

“What??” Akira hisses under his breath, casting a quick glance to his teacher to make sure he’s not heard.

“Your answer for that last one is wrong. Japanese architects don’t use the platinum ratio.”

“Then what is it, oh Wise One?”

To his utter dismay, Akechi just winks at him and shifts his position to be able to better read as Akira frantically erases his mistake, cheeks flaming red. No amount of staring, whether it be with a pout or glare, will get Akechi to divulge the real answer, so Akira is forced to sit and stare at it on his own. He does his best to trace back through the lecture, digging his fingers into his temples as if the stimulation will make the memories more accessible. 

Time ends up being his greatest nemesis (behind Akechi and his knowing smirk), and he has to scribble in “bronze” before the class period ends and they’re released for the day.

“That was wrong too, you know,” Akechi says after falling into step beside Akira on the way to the front of the building. His voice is full of mirth and he can’t quite keep a grin off his face, especially when Akira huffs indignantly. He laughs quietly and nudges the other boy with his hip just before Ryuji comes up to flank the raven-haired boy’s other side. Akechi disappears with his laugh, and Akira lets himself gaze at the spot he just was and miss the warmth of his presence before turning to Ryuji and smiling happily. Ann takes the blond’s other side, and Shiho comes to finish the line beside Ann. Ryuji and Ann complain loudly about the exam’s questions, leaving Akira and Shiho to smile fondly and laugh at their friends.

The boys and girls part ways at the station, Ryuji understanding his constant invitation to Leblanc combined with his conversation with Akira earlier as a “please come over so I can tell you about the thing.” On the train, their conversation drops because of the noise, but Akira is reassured by the comforting weight of his best friend leaning against him. It doesn’t pick back up until they’re in his bedroom and have shed their blazers. 

“Y’know how Boss always leaves a coffee out on Fridays?”

Ryuji quirks a brow up and turns to face him completely.

“Yeah? M’guessing you did that last night too?”

He gets a nod in response, and the conversation pauses for a moment as Akira collects his thoughts, plopping down onto his bed with a sigh. Ryuji settles next to him and sits on his feet, facing Akira to give him his full attention.

“I think I found out why he does it…” Akira goes on to explain his first meeting with Akechi as Ryuji’s eyes get wider and wider.

“Have ya asked Boss about it?”

“Asked me about what?”

Both boys whip their heads around to see Sojiro standing on the stairs with narrowed eyes.

“Just which brand of coffee you would recommend for someone that’s not fond of coffee but would like to be,” Akira’s lie is smooth, but tastes bitter on his tongue. It seems to placate Sojiro though, as he just nods.

“I’ll show you next time you work. Came up to tell you that I’m closing early--Futaba wanted to show me something in Akihabara.”

The raven-haired boy just smiles and nods, watching his guardian step down the stairs carefully before slumping down against his best friend with a groan.

“Why didn’t ya just ask him?” Ryuji is confused, but he wraps an arm around Akira’s shoulder for comfort.

“Everytime I mention it, he’s gotten weird and evasive. I don’t think he just died peacefully in his sleep… Something definitely happened there, and I’m going to try to ask Akechi about it at some point.”

He gets a solemn nod in return and a squeeze of his shoulders that says more than most people could in a thousand words. The conversation gets lighter as they start to work on homework and lament their wrong test answers, and after a few hours, it’s only Akira working. Ryuji is draped over his lap playing something on his phone, but the weight is grounding. He copies some of his notes that he knows Ryuji didn’t write and slides them into his friend’s bag before stretching and yawning.

“Should you get home, ‘Yuji?”

He gets a groan in response and laughs, patting down the wild blond hair before resting his elbows on Ryuji’s back and his chin in his hands. They stay like that for a few minutes before the blond finally does sit up, ruffling Akira’s curls as he gathers up his things to head home for the night.

“You working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Feel free to come by. Boss’ll be here and I think Futaba’s gonna hang out too.”

Ryuji nods and gives him a two-fingered salute before heading down the stairs.

“You should probably lock the door,” Akechi murmurs. When Akira looks, he’s sprawled on the couch, long legs stretched over the length of the cushions. Grudgingly, he nods and follows his friend downstairs to lock up the cafe after him. He returns to his room to see Akechi with his head tipped back, hair completely off his forehead and baring the wound to the dim light.

“Go ahead and ask.”

Akira blinks slowly at him before settling down on the floor by the couch, peering up at the ghost curiously.

“What happened and why won’t Sojiro or Futaba talk about you?”

He lazily turns to look at Akira, crimson eyes piercing and scarily intelligent.

“Futaba and I shared a father--not Sojiro. He was a horrible man, a politician that lived up to every negative stereotype and horror story you could imagine. When he found out my mother was pregnant, he disappeared, and that sent her into a spiraling depression that led her to take her own life shortly after I was born. I worked my way through orphanages and foster homes until I made a standing for myself as a detective-”

“The Detective Prince?”

“No, but I was friends with Shirogane-senpai, as well as being mentored by her. Regardless, I was hired by Futaba’s mother to do some investigative work into the person that was silencing her research. Turns out that it was my father, and the father of her young daughter. Sometime during this investigation, Futaba and I met and we became nearly inseparable. Wakaba-san took me in, and I met Sojiro. He took care of me and was like the father I never had.

“Soon after I made true headway into the investigation, Wakaba-san was found dead and I was summoned to the office of Masayoshi Shido--my father.”

Akira’s eyes widen, but he stays silent, unconsciously scooting closer until he can lay his head against the couch and watch Akechi talk at the same time.

“He thought he could corner and silence me, but I had already set up a fallback. Futaba had hacked into the security cameras in his office and recorded the whole conversation to send to my police contacts, including when he put a gun to my forehead and pulled the trigger.”

The ghost’s fingers come to thread lightly through Akira’s curls as if needing the comfort of contact, and his voice only wavers a little bit when he keeps talking. 

“I assume Futaba wrongly blames herself for not being able to stop it, but no one could have at that point. I’m not sure what happened between now and then. Shido has been stopped, I know that much. Otherwise, Futaba wouldn’t be safe.”

Akira nods faintly, voice soft. 

“He was arrested a year ago and given a life sentence. He died in jail. It was all over the news.”

The ghost just nods and continues combing through wild hair, his nails running along the living teen’s scalp and lulling him into a deep contentment. 

“I wonder what’s different,” Akechi muses, “Why you can see me, and no one else can.”

Akira doesn’t have an answer, but in an effort to make the ghost smile he changes the subject.

“It was the silver ratio.”

Akechi’s fingers stop in his hair for a moment, but he bursts into a delighted laugh, ruffling Akira’s hair playfully.

“Third time’s the charm, huh?”

\-------------

Soon enough, Monday comes back around, and Akira is sitting in another exam. He has most of the answers filled out correctly, but he can’t remember what the name of the light-producing substance in fireflies is called. He tentatively writes down ‘luminogen,’ looking up to where he knows Akechi will be reading.

“Wrong!” the ghost sings, tapping the paper until Akira erases it.

‘Luminarine’

“Wrong again!” he crows, snickering lightly at the positively pathetic look he’s given.

Akira pauses and really thinks for a moment, searching in crimson depths as their eyes meet and hold.

‘Luci...fer..in’

When Akechi says nothing, he gets a blinding smile.

“Kurusu-kun! What on earth are you smiling at? Eyes on your paper, please,” his teacher scolds. Akira can hear Ryuji snickering from behind him and Akechi just laughs boisterously as he disappears to leave the raven-haired boy to test in peace.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this quick little one-shot <3 I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
